Morning After Dark
by chocamoca
Summary: What happens if a young, handsome reporter, who suffers from a periodic case of memory loss, meets a popular newbie actor, with a huge ego and diva attitude?
1. Dawn I

_Morning After Dark_

**Warning**: The following story contains explicit language and scenes that some readers may find offensive.

This chapter is rated **T**

Pairings: Grimmjow x Ichigo

I don't own Bleach, Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

Forgive me for any mistakes that I made in the following story.

* * *

Dawn

I

* * *

_I can't remember the last time I smiled._

…

_When I was younger, life seemed so simple and yet so intriguing. _

_I felt complete, fortunate to be alive. _

_I remember__ my loving mother, whose smile encouraged me to move on when times were rough._

_M__y crazy, gout face of a father, whose eccentric nature made me question the likelihood of him being my real parent._

_My__ sisters who would do anything for me and in return I would give up everything, my body, my soul and my life to protect them._

_I remember, m__y girlfriend who I valued and cherished as if she was the only soul purpose of my existence. _

_My friends: Chad, Keigo and Tatsuki, who I treasured as much as my real family._

_All those p__eople, where so important to me._

_I would have followed them till the end of the earth, fought and died for them without hesitation. _

_Yes, life seemed complete. _

_Seemed? _

_Ha, it was complete. _

_I thought that it would stay that way, unchanged, calm and stable forever._

_I was happy. _

_I smiled._

_Who knew that all the things that I held so dear, would just burn, crumble and disappear like they never even existed?_

_It's so sickeningly ironic, that something as grand as my life, that seemed so complete, so warm, so borderless could just vanish so easily, right in front of my eyes in a matter of hours, minutes, seconds even._

_Yeah__. _

_I can't remember the last time__, I smiled._

He felt his head pulse and the sweet odor of his cologne mixed with smell of cigarettes didn't make him feel any better. The feeling of dying from intoxication never left his side.

_Ugh! _

He turned around, naively hoping that the smell, that was making him sick to his stomach, was going to disappear if he looked the other way around. But instead, light dizziness appeared out of nowhere and started to overpower his senses.

It was morning, or so he guessed. He felt the sunlight reaching its way into the room and tickling his back. Making him sweat buckets and even more nauseas then he already was.

_That's odd. I clearly remember pulling down the curtains in the living room. _

The young man shifted lightly. Lie on his back, he sluggishly started to open his eyelids, which seemed to be glued together.

He noticed an unfamiliar ceiling, a small window covered by a thin cloth. He tried to raise his head, but soon noticed the cramped space, that restricted his movements. The young man situated himself on his elbows. He glanced down and noticed his naked torso, covered by a red fabric. The orange haired male raised the material in one swift motion, only to drown in self-hatred after a second. There was a thin arm clinging to his hips. He followed it slowly, gradually turning his head to the right.

_Fuck!_

A naked, slim figure lie next to him, which maybe even wouldn't be such a bad thing if… and only if… he could manage to remember this person. His name, age or where he met him? He glanced around the small flat, putting together the small amounts of memory like a jigsaw puzzle, quickly concluding that some pieces are missing, like they never even existed.

After a few minutes of intense mind fuckery, Ichigo decided to crawl out of the petite persons embrace and get dressed as quickly as he could, trying not to wake the smaller figure in the process.

_Up we go!_

He moved cautiously. Gently placing the young ones arm on the mattress and crawling slowly out of the bed, looking back and checking if the commotion didn't wake the sleeping figure. He really wasn't in the mood to explain anything to anybody right now. Especially, if he himself didn't know what's going on.

_So, what was I wearing again?_

The orange haired young man scratched his nape, scanning the room for his clothes. He found one clothing item after another. However, he still couldn't manage to find his shirt... T-shirt... sweater or whatever he was wearing that night.

„Are you looking for this? " A husky, low voice that softly rang in his ears came from the other side of the room. There he was, a cute and innocent looking young man, with whom apparently Ichigo had sex with, holding up what supposedly... was his... dress shirt.

„Ah, yeah... thanks. " The orange head answered, slowly examining the black colored, pin-striped, dress shirt, hanging in the younger males' hand.

_So I bought new clothes again._

„Hmm... you're not as talkative as you were yesterday." The smaller male commented, sleepily glancing over at Ichigo.

"You don't say?" His words resembled a barely noticeable mumble.

After putting on the clothing item, which Ichigo clearly remembered he didn't own, he turned around and started tiredly walking towards the door, where he hoped he will manage to find his shoes.

"Don't you want coffee… or I can order something to eat?" The young male asked while sleepily rubbing his eyes and standing up from the small bed. Ichigo ignored him unintentionally. Blame it on the lack of sleep or on the confusion caused by a humongous hangover and disorientation.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" The boy raised his voice a bit, showing off his dissatisfaction for the leaving of the other figure. This time the orange haired male noticed the teens' useless attempts in starting a conversation, but he didn't answer, he didn't even look back or show any kinds of emotions that would indicate on his interest in the just awakened smaller male. After swiftly putting on his shoes, he stood up. The unexpected embrace making him stumble.

"Didn't you like it? Was it that bad? Just tell me what you like! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't…don't leave…please! I…I like you!" The boy blurted out in a loud, yet sad voice, the last part coming out as a teary whisper. Ichigo turned around to face the shorter figure that was desperately clinging to his shirt. The teen shivered, trying to hide his embarrassment and tears, that were slowly appearing in his heavily lidded eyes. Ichigo sighed, his scowl deepened. He tried to be as delicate as he could, yet understood that in this situation he will look like a total ass, regardless of his answer.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"…jow-san… Grimmjow-san! Grimmjow…"

"WHAT!"

"Good morning!"

"Fuck off!"

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques hated waking up early as much as he hated his blond haired assistant. If not for the dedication towards his current job, he would most gladly kick the annoying little bitch out and sleep the day away. He crashed back into his mattress, with a laud thud and swiftly covered himself up with the jet black, silky material. His disinterest in the blonds bickering clearly noticeable in his still sleeping face.

"I'm really sorry, but sir you have a meeting with the agency at 8.30. Please sir wake up, while I make you breakfast," the blond haired male said showing his obvious dissatisfaction towards the teal haired mans lack off enthusiasm.

"Humph…"

He needed to wake up. He hated when people accused him of being lazy or that he wasn't serious towards his job. Which, however you looked at it was a false accusation, considering his rapidly growing popularity and his dedication towards his still rising career.

"Ugh…"

Grimmjows nose and blue bangs were the only things that stuck out from beneath the silk blanket. He opened his eyes, slowly. The blue haired man resembled pretty much a puma that crawled outside his cozy and warm cave. He managed to sit up, lazily yawning in the process. After scratched the blue mess of hair, he glanced at his cell, which lie on the small cabinet, next to his bed.

"For the love of god, its still 6 am," the teal haired male growled.

Ilforte Grantz was a very punctual person and took his job really seriously. Grimmjow hated his snobbish attitude and as it seemed fake personality, being polite and docile didn't just suit his appearance. However, he didn't have much choice. His bosses' secretary Ichimaru Gin, handpicked the assistant for him. Ilforts job consisted of various tasks. He had to keep track of the stars schedule, keep an eye on his diet and wake him up in the mornings… basically babysit the teal haired man.

Much to his own amazement, Grimmjow managed to stand up, the jet black material still covering his lower body. He walked towards the huge window, on the way picking up his least favorite pack off smokes from the small, round, glass table. He lit the cigarette and opened the window, glancing lazily over the beauty of the still sleeping city.

"Grimmjow-san you need to stop with the smoking. It's really bad for your health and …" was all that teal haired man could manage to… or wanted to hear.

"… and your pores…lungs…cancer…"

"Oi! Shut the hell up! What are you, my freaking mommy?" The blue eyed male shouted out aggressively.

"No… sir, but I have been instructed to yada, yada, yada…"

"…"

"And blah, blah, blah… smoking…blah!"

"…oh… just shut the fuck up! I'm already doing as much as I can", meaning – _as much as I let you._ "I'm smoking this shit that has less nicotine in it then a freaking lollipop, you jack ass!"

"Alright, sir, I will not continue this conversation with you, today. Please come to the kitchen, I prepared your coffee and bought you some chocolate muffins."

His ear twitched on hearing the last two words and after what appeared to be a second, he was swiftly walking towards the kitchen, to eat his meal.

Yes, he smoked. He could eat so much sweet stuff that a normal person would most likely die from it. He loved drinking. Partying in his life was a huge must and he was seemingly addicted to the attention he got, because of his popularity. When high class girls were drooling over him like a new D&G bag or whatever rich, pretty girls found worthy of drooling over, he felt, let just say complete.

The only thing that could be considered healthy in the blue haired mans lifestyle was his love for working out and his limitless libido.

* * *

_AN_: My first fic... be nice


	2. Dawn II

Rated: **M **

Yet again, forgive me for any mistakes that my pile of mush managed to ignore.

* * *

Dawn

II

* * *

_Tears?_

_Why? _

_Why are you __wasting such a precious emotion on a stranger?_

_No._

_Don't cry__… for me._

_I have long forgotten what it's like to feel sympathy._

_Please._

_Don't shed your tears for such a bastard like me. _

…

Ichigo walked slowly out of the small and messy apartment. He moved his feet towards the elevator, not even once looking back at the teary eyed figure behind him. He looked at the mirrored wall of the small cubicle, glancing at his tired face, bags under his eyes clearly noticeable even in the dimly lid room.

_You, my friend, look like shit. _

The metallic doors of the elevator shot open. Step by step he reached to the wide doors of the unfamiliar building. He opened one of them, narrowing his teary, hazel eyes from the radiant rays of the still rising sun. He took one step at a time, lazily reaching the end of the granite, grey staircase. After inhaling the sweet summer scent of the slowly awakening city, Ichigo lazily shoved his hands into his back pockets. He twitched when he noticed something sharp scratching his knuckles.

_Huh?_

He stopped almost mechanically and took out the small item out of his charcoal colored jeans. The culprit for his discomfort was a rectangular shaped paperboard pack, specifically its sharp film covered edges. Ichigo analyzed the black, golden striped container in the palm of his hand. His frown deepened…"Cigarettes?"

"Just great," he muttered, dropping the half full pack into the garbage container, next to the apartment complex. He didn't smoke. Moreover he hated smoking. The smell of cigarettes made him sick to his stomach. That's why he couldn't as much as be in one room with a smoker. Ironically, every time he woke up after his further blackout he reeked of cigarettes and his chest felt tight, what indisputably proved that he himself was in fact the smoker. Another unavoidable thing was his killer hangover, which was so huge that it could apply for a freaking name and call itself a new, flourishing country. Putting the smoking and drinking business aside, there was another incy wincy problem, which was… sleeping around. The confusing part was in fact that he wasn't freaked out or scared, anymore at least. It felt as if doing such things was second nature to him… or he could just start preordering a straitjacket with his name on it.

He doesn't really remember the exact date when it all started, but he sure as hell remembers his confusion and embarrassment caused by the unexpected situation.

It happened three months ago. Yoruichi made him retype an article for at least ten times about some idiot he interweaved, in the end she still wasn't pleased with it.

He came home tired and sleepy, barely standing on his feet. After showing himself out of his shoes, he dropped on his couch, where he sleeps more then in his own bed. It isn't in fact because the couch is comfier or anything. He just doesn't see any purpose in sleeping on the bed. Firstly, the couch in the living room is nearer to the entrance of his apartment, so collapsing on the first cozy thing after a hard day at work is a reason in itself. Secondly, the bed is too big for only one person and that just reminds him of the ruthful truth, that he... is in fact… alone.

So, back to the story, after falling asleep, he saw an abnormally realistic dream. The first part of it was mostly walking in the nightly city. Then he remembers seeing a modern style bar, with white walls and red furniture. After that it's just drinking. He gulped down one cocktail after another, shortly feeling a little tipsy. Then he remembers a girl, they talked, laughed and… made out, she seemed like a pretty good kisser. Afterwards, she waved her hand to someone, tugging on his shirt _"Come with me."_ He walked out of the building with her and some other girl. The one with whom he made out in the bar was a tall blond, gorgeous enough to be on a cover of a fashion magazine and the other was a slightly shorter girl, with brown, wavy hair, as beautiful as her friend. After that he remembers seeing something closely resembling to a recently watched porn movie: caressing, kissing, sucking, touching mixed together with passion and simple animalistic need. He felt hot, almost feverish. In the middle of it all, the dream stopped, turning into a bottomless pit of darkness.

He opened his eyes, cursing at the gloriously shitty day to come. His thoughts were easily cut off after seeing his surroundings. To his fundamental shock he noticed a really flashy and freakishly pink room, and might he add the fact that he couldn't move. One thing that restricted his movements was his humongous headache, second something lay on his hand and stomach. Ichigo looked right and notices a mess of blond hair, he was… confused. Then he looked down and notices a fuzz of brown hair, confusion gradually turned into dread. Ichigo looked around the room a second time, he closed his eyes and started desperately repeating to himself that this was a dream and after he opens his eyes his going to be at home, on his beloved couch. But to his utter surprise it didn't work, now he was mortified, no… scratch that… scared shitless.

At one moment, one of the girls, specifically the one who was sleeping on his stomach woke up and after what appeared to be second, started to... fondle him? The orange head closed his eyes again, desperately repeating his previous mantra. "It's a dream, a really, really realistic wet dream…", but after the girl dedicated herself to his half hard member, it occurred to him that this... in fact... wasn't a dream. He remembers vividly how she caressed his cock with her tender fingers, licking the tip with her wet, soft tongue, slowly twirling around his slick sensitive skin and eagerly gulping him down. In one swift motion of her heated mouth she was clamping around him, making Ichigo bite his lip from the obvious hardening erection. The other girl, who woke up shortly after hearing sucking and slurping noises, noticing her friends slowly bobbing head, smirked seductively and started slowly placing feather light kisses on his neck, rubbing his abs with her gentle finger tips. Ichigo was losing himself in ecstasy. The orange head never imagined himself in such an erotic situation.

After a small argument between him and his lewd desires, where his sense of morals won the upper hand, Ichigo decided to speak up. He pushed the girls gently away from his heated body parts and asked something, what he might add was a perfectly logical question: "Who the fuck are you?" He flew faster then you can say "you asshole", what apparently were the exact words of one of the girls who shut the door in front of his nose. The embarrassment of standing butt naked with a hard on in a dorm hall full of girls, who found a new hobby in complimenting his naked ass, was unimaginable.

When he thinks back at it, he could have just enjoyed himself, but it would be a humongous slap to his righteous nature.

_Thank God they at least gave me my pants back. _

Of course, every other person on this godforsaken planet would consider seeing a doctor or getting help from his relatives. But not Ichigo, he doesn't want to burden his family members. He isn't a kid anymore and it was his decision to move out of the Kurosaki family home in the first place. Seeing a doctor is also out of the question, he would just send him to a shrink or better yet to a nuthouse. Furthermore, he would most likely lose his job and that would ruin any chances in a successful career. Not to mention, that they would give him different kinds of grouse pills if he would indeed be sent to a hospital.

_No. I had those too many already. _

Just remembering those white walls, stench from the medication that he had to take three times a day or even those nurses poking a countless number of needles in him, made his skin crawl.

Thankfully he has a friend, Ishida, no let's say an acquaintance that loves psychology, but who in fact never studied it. The only psychological education that he got was from the books of his fathers' beloved collection. When he heard about Ichigos story, he didn't really think much of it, the only reason for this behavior was that Ichigo just needed to relieve some stress and got so wasted that he just plainly forgot about the threesome. But the second time the young man woke up in a hotel, with a attractive woman in her thirties, remembering that the last thing he did was watching TV in the comforts of his four walls, Ishida started to find his friends condition let just say, quite intriguing and worthy of his interest.

It's only after the third time, that he started waking up near men, sometimes young looking boys. The youngest one appeared to be 17. The lack of soreness and hurt hinted that he never was the bottom, the second things was that none of his one-nighters apparently knew his name and it seemed that the people were always from random places, like clubs, bars, parks, one was even a cashier from a mall across the town.

He noticed that the blackouts occur once in every two weeks, sometimes sooner, but only if his really tired or stressed. Sometimes he even wakes up at home and the only thing that hints on his moving around are his dreams and a new change of clothes. When he does, however wake up next to someone, he tries to make a straight face, like he doesn't give a shit about anything or anyone, less talk means less problems. If they try to start a conversation he just ignores them or defends himself by saying: "this was only a onetime fuck". He hates it, but the story with the memory loss would just let to being accused as a lying asshole or getting slapped. It's always better when people ignore him or just say something like "it was fun", "call me" or simply "bye-bye".

When a month past after the first "incident", Ishida called him and started shooting out different kinds of theories about Ichigos memory gaps. Some where so complex that the orange head decided to save his last functioning brain cells by ignoring half of them. He did however manage to pick up something about a damaged episodic memory and post-traumatic amnesia, due to a head injury. Ichigo had indeed suffered a concussion once, to be exact two years ago, after what he was hospitalized for nearly eight months. He even had to speak with a shrink two times a week, because of a partly lost memory and … and…

_Ugh!_

"Mm… head…," he closed his eyes and placed a hand on his forehead. He stood in the middle of the empty road for a minute, exhaling and inhaling, slowly.

Shaking his head, he continued with his desperate mission to find the nearest street sign.

* * *

"You have a meeting with Aizen-san at 8.30. After that you have a photo shoot at 11.00 and at 12.15 you will have an interview with _Seireitei Entertainment_."

"Hmm…" was the only answer that Ilford got out of the blue haired man, who at that moment was occupied with looking for his car keys in the deeps of his granite gray, pea coat pocket.

The blond sighed: "after that…"

"Ok, ok I get it's a beautiful day full of important shit to do. You just do your job like a good little nanny-chan and shut… yes! Finally! Found them!"

"Sir I would be really thankful if you wouldn't refer to me as that. My name is Ilfor…"

"Yeah, yeah… now shut the hell up and sit down!" The teal haired man commanded in a rude and loud voice that echoed across the underground parking lot. After opening the door of his red Ford Mustang GT 520, which he so dearly adored, he sat down, his metal chain hanging from his low steel blue, denim jeans, jingling with every motion he made. He looked over the car clock, then into the rear-view mirror, lightly tugging on his dark gray, suede baker boy hat, that showed out only his long blue bangs that covered the sides of his forehead. He pushed the keys into the starter. The silver, cross shaped pended that hung from the key chain, started swinging in tone with the vibrations of the vehicle.

* * *

Ichigo scratched his messy, orange hair while glancing over the street name.

"I think I will just order a cab or something."

He took his cell out to do just that. He didn't have the time to dial the number, before a catchy punk rock melody, which happened to be his ringtone, started playing.

_**Incoming call. Idiot Renji.**_

He pushed the answer button. "Hel.."

"Hey dipshit! Where da fuck are ya?"

"…"

"…oi!"

"Good question."

"What do ya mean?"

At the same time the door of the parking lot opened and a gorgeous red car that Ichigo recognized as a Mustang drove out in front of his nose. He glanced at the cars exterior. It felt like he was watching it move in slow motion, the bass shooting out of it made him feel like he was watching a commercial on TV. Sangria red paint with a silver tribal line print on its hood, glittered in the bright rays of the still rising sun, the sensation, coming from the roaring beauty, made Ichigos body shiver.

"Man, some people have it good," he commented, apparently forgetting that his friend was still on the other line, waiting for his answer.

"Eh? You hit yer head or somethin'?"

"Shut it!" The orange head shot back intensively, looking at the back of the red beauty that just drove away a few second ago.

"Where the fuck are ya?IDIOT!"

Ichigo sighed and tugged at his orange spikes: "I'm in front of a big condo and the street sign says… the fuck? … Las Noches Street?"

"Hoo! You got laid and forgot about it again, haven't ya?"

"Ha, no, no… I just decided to go out for a walk at fucking 8 am in a street that I didn't even know existed in this god damn city!"

"Sarcastic much?" his friend murmured:"You're lucky then that I know. I'll be there after an hour to pick you up."

"Come again?"

"Just kidden', Berry head, in twenty minutes." The man on the other line joyfully replied and hung up.

* * *

"Whoa!" Renji took off his thin framed, oversized, brown sunglasses, while stepping out of the car with one foot still standing in the vehicle. He took in the whole magnitude of the huge modern style condo and continued: "Someone got lucky!"

"Shut up idiot! I stayed in place few blocks away from here." Ichigo answered, lazily stepping towards his friend.

"Hoo… and I thought you scored big time," he giggled, while placing the glasses back on his nose.

Ichigo decided to ignore his friends' comments and sat into his black BMW. He liked his friends' car, sure it wasn't the newest model, but the sand beige leather interior and the custom black painting made it look like its worth more then it actually was.

"So…?" Renji sat back into the salon, glancing over his friend, wearing his long and devious smirk.

Ichigo buckled up his seat belt, yawning, showing off his obvious disinterest in the subject. He knew Renji good enough to figure out that his friend will ask him something stupid.

He sighed: "What?"

"… Who did you bang this time?"

"Just shut up and keep your eyes on the road."

Renji, aside from Ishida was another person who knew about his strange condition. He wasn't planning on telling him, but after his friend called him a couple of weeks ago and asked him if he was bisexual, he had to come out and clear up the misconception.

Apparently, Renji saw Ichigo coming out from a bar. He wanted to yell out his name, but soon noticed two figures with him, a long legged brunette and a guy, in his twenties. All in all, it wouldn't cause a misunderstanding what so ever, but seeing his friend being kissed, really passionately by those two figures, made him, let's just say a little curious.

"Why did you call me anyway?" Ichigo asked while playing with the cuffs of his new shirt.

"Man, you're amnesia is getting worse or something? We have a scheduled interview today." He answered, shortly turning to the main road.

"So? It's in the afternoon, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but if you decide to grab a bite in the morning with a friend and just notice that he doesn't open his door after you ring the fucking bell for exactly five times, you tend to get worried." Renji answered, stopping when noticing the blinking yellow of the traffic light.

"…Hm, then lets do just that. But let me change first…and take a shower. I reek of smokes and se..."

"Yeah, yeah," his friend answered, placing his chin on the steering wheel, a small smirk once again appearing on his lips. "So… who did you fuck?"

"OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP RENJI!"

* * *

_AN: _Berry-chan is a naughty, naughty boy. I hope that he uses protection. -.-


	3. At first blush I

Rated: **T**

Mistakes- please ignore, or not.

* * *

At first blush

I

* * *

_Damn! This is so freaking retarded__!_

Yes, indeed, it was a beautiful summer day. The gradually heating sun made every clerk in the surrounding buildings, without an air conditioner curse their decision in pursuing their career as office workers. The city was buzzing with the sound of passing cars, voices of people in different languages and pitches, laughter of kids on their first week's vacation that made every grownup in a five meter radius envious. All those lively sounds reached their way into the white walled meeting room, making the handsome idol-actor Grimmjow Jeagerjaques loath this day more then any other.

Some people who were lucky enough to be on holiday were probably on a picnic, shopping, dating or plainly relaxing at home with a bottle of cold beer, on their beloved couch, watching their favorite movie or a football game. Grimmjow would most gladly switch places with any of them and relax at a beach right now or even at home, sleeping the day away. Hell he would even cook something for the fun of it, but sadly he was held back with his responsibility of being famous. Alright, not exactly famous, but known by at least some people who owned a TV set throughout Japan and saw at least one or two of the commercials or music videos he was in. But sadly, his current responsibility was attending a two hour meeting, where twenty and something people in monkey suits were talking about the upcoming premier of the new promising movie of the year.

_What do you need graphs for you fucking idiot…_

Grimmjows disinterest could be explained by numerous things. Firstly, he wasn't exactly what you would call a black tie, suite wearing and administration meeting kind of guy. Of course, he was mature enough to understand that these kinds of gatherings were important for the cooperation between the agencies, partners, sponsors and all sorts of cretins who placed their money on the successfulness of the upcoming premiere. But one thing that ticked him off even more was the unsolved mystery that was:

_Why in the name of fuck do I have to be here? _

Apparently, as Ilford explained to him, being one of the biggest bread earning talents of the agency made him equally important to those…

… _Fat ass primates. _

Surely the teal haired male considered himself popular at some extent, but he still compared himself to any other regular employee in the agency. He could simply explain this by a logical fact: they give him assignments, pay and he in return, does what he can do best…

_Lie?_

Act.

The teal haired idol managed to hold his composure for less then twenty minutes, after that, as you may imagine he was as interested as watching paint dry or grass grow. Heck even watching flies fuck would provide more brain food then listening to the statistics, going over the prominent guest list, commercial ideas and whatnot. Not to mention that the blue eyed actor had heard it all numerous times, when they were still filming, from the director, co-actors, make up artists and lots of different fuckers who just didn't manage to get a life of their own.

He was seriously wrestling the urge to doze off and take the risk of getting his limbs cut off by his bosses' assistant Tousen or leave those losers to their meaningless jabbering and be brutally murdered by his boss.

Of course he had much more important and interesting stuff to do, like ticking Ilford off or watching his stylist make an ass out of himself or even building the words largest cupcake castle, the last one less amusing, but nevertheless sounded really yummy.

_Booooooooooooring! Where is the freaking fire alarm when you need one?_

After realizing that no one really gives him any attention the blue eyed idol decided to ignore every peace of useless information about stuff that hadn't anything to do with his work, specifically his paycheck.

So, in order to kill time he decided to do the impossible, piss off his number one rival and co-actress, Hallibel. Who was currently facing him from the other side of the long, glass table and looked as interested as ever, meaning her face resembled a Spanish version of a classic Vintage porcelain doll.

_Does she __even blink?_

He started scanning his mind for any kind of idea, even a moronic one that would manage to give him some entertainment in this dull and meaningless ordeal.

"Pss! Tai!"

The blond beauty looked at him slightly changing the trajectory of her sight. She blinked indicating that he has now her full attention. Grimmjows brow rose, licking the side of his mouth he moved his lips slowly, so not to be noticed by his higher-ups, gradually putting together two words with the motion of his full, slightly moist lips: "Wanna fuck?"

Hallibel blinked, her expression still closely resembling an inanimate object. With a small movement of her hand she grabbed a black ballpoint pen and started lazily writing something on the both sides of the white piece of paper, shortly showing one side of the sheet, with an almost calligraphic writing:"Don't do brats."

The teal haired actor protruded his full, lower lip, showing a comical expression of a pouting child. He smirked and moved his lips muttering a barely noticeable:"whore." She on the other hand glanced at the blue eyed idol and turned the piece of paper still hanging on her fingertips:"Better then a psycho on glucose."

"Tsk!"

"Grimmjow if you have something to say, please, do continue," his boss said looking at him seemingly displeased by his childish behavior.

The teal haired man looked at his boss then shot a death glare at Hallibel:"No sir."

After thirty minutes of boring holes into the blond beauty and not getting any reaction what so ever, he counted a hundred and something win for the tanned female.

Two hours and a numerous of bowings, compliments and handshakes later, that made the idol wonder how his bosses butt didn't shine yet from the lifetime supply of ass kissing, he heard the most gloriously wonderful words in the whole stupid meeting.

"That is all. Have a nice day."

He started walking towards the exit, but paused when he heard the low pitched voice of his boss, that always, indisputably managed to make his skin crawl.

"And Grimmjow, please behave on today's interview."

He glanced back, half-heartedly bowing his head: "Yes sir."

_Freak!_

His boss, Sousuke Aizen, is an intelligent, classy and dignified man… and that of course is and stays as a first impression. When Grimmjow first met him, after being scouted by his secretary, he didn't really think much of him, but after he started working in the agency and had his first conflict with some self-proclaimed hot shot stylist, he saw something that till this day makes his body shiver. The strange thing was that his boss just stood there, with his smiling eyes and a smirk that made others in the room feel like they were as meaningless as dirt under his shoe soul. Grimmjow swore that he even saw some guy piss himself out of the sheer magnitude that his highness radiated. "I understand that conflicts between colleagues are unavoidable, but please do not meddle with the work of my company or I… will have to… fire you," he directed his calm and low voice, to the now ex hot shot stylist.

_L__ittle fucker looked like he was going to puke out his innards or something. _

At that moment Grimmjow came to a realization, that he in fact signed a contract with the living and breathing version of Lucifer and decided that keeping his temper under control, on working hours, would be the best idea that he had since… since ever. Yes, of course bowing his head to someone and being all docile wasn't his style, but being killed by a menacing aura didn't sound appealing either.

Grimmjow walked out of the meeting room and after several minutes was making a soul wrenching decision. The conflict between him and the wending machine bringing his brain cells to an unavoidable meltdown.

_That! No, that! No…ugh!_

After searching through the bottomless depths of his soul, he decided on a pack of gummy bears and a coke and started walking towards the changing room.

"Grimmjow-san!"

"Holy shit, don't scare me like that golden locks!" The teal haired male shot out, nearly dropping his sweets. He figured that his assistant may have been a ninja or an assassin in his past life, with the way he appears out of nowhere and all.

"Sir, you better not eat those right now. You need to hold on to your diet."

"Shut up! I need something sweet all my brain will rot."

"What brain?" Ilford muttered, while taking the risk of pissing the younger man off.

"You said something?"

"No, Sir. I just thought, that you're smart enough as it is," the blond replied, an unnatural smile formed slowly on his lips.

"You better said that." The blue eyed male growled, greedily gulping down three gummy bears.

* * *

After a quick shower and a change of clothes Ichigo and his colleague and friend Renji, drove to their favorite café for a small snack.

After ordering a sandwich with a glass of iced coffee, Ichigo looked outside the window quietly analyzing the pedestrians and vehicles in all shapes and sizes that drove through the afternoon city.

"Man… it's hot," Renji commented while tugging on his white sleeveless t-shirt.

"Hmm…?" Ichigo murmured and took a sip from his cold drink, successfully smearing his upper lip with whipped cream:"It's the middle of June, Sherlock, course it's going to be hot."

"Ok, ok… don't bite my head off. Jeez, it's not my fault that you can't control you sleepwalking habit like shit," the red head answered lazily waving his hand and glancing over to the TV behind the bar stand.

"_It's going to be sunny all day long. It will reach to 31 __°C__ at mid-day. At night it's going to …"_

Ichigo sighed, still glancing outside the wide window: "it's not sleepwalking, idiot! Even less a habit."

"Listen," the red head scratched his nape and continued: "it isn't my place to say this, but… maybe you really need to go to a hospital. It's just the stuff you do doesn't really roll with your personality."

Ichigo averted his eyes from the busy street, directing his full attention to his colleague: "what are you getting at?"

"I've been thinking, maybe you have the same thing like in that," he scratched his straight red hair again, making Ichigo ponder how his friend hasn't manage to dig a hole in his head with the countless amount of scratching:"that movie… with that guy, what's his name again Jordan, Jayson no, Je… something guy."

Ichigos eyes narrowed: "what are you talking about, idiot?"

"Mmm…you know that guy… who turned into some other guy and killed people and then killed himself in the end… or something like that?"

The orange head started to put together a scenario from the obviously idiotic explanation of his friend, his brow rose: "Jekyll and Hide?"

The wide-eyed red head pointed a finger at his companion: "Yeah, that guy… but that guy was a lawyer…"

"Doctor…"

"Yeah whatever, doc and his inner psycho or whatever."

"So…?"

"So, you have the same thing, you're like a young reporter by day and a horny man-whore at night?" Renjis previous expression turned into a smile, and after five second he was laughing his ass off."Sounds like a superhero," he banged one hand against the table still laughing like an idiot:"or no, no like Cinderella, if you don't get home for day break you turn into a pumpkin."

"…"

"What?"

"Figures a moron like you, managed to get even a fairy tail wrong."

"Whatever, that's not where I'm getting' at…," the red head took a big breath and rubbed his teary eyes:"you need to see a doctor, I mean dude, if something happens to you, like you get into a fight or worse kill someone…or even get killed?"

"Shut up idiot, that would never happen."

"How do you know?"

Ichigo brows knit together: "can feel it…," he turned his gaze back at the street: "and besides Ishidas dad is a doc, if it gets worse then I can consult with him anytime. Ishida just needs to call him papa for a week and he will do anything, even give me a free check up."

Renjis expression turned into a disappointed scowl: "…why did Ishida know, but I didn't in the first place, hah? I mean you hang out with me more then with Mr. four eyes."

Ichigo looked at his companion and then back to the window, sighing quietly.

"…Our fathers studied together and although, we lived in different cities we sometimes hung out, when there was some get together between doctors. And knowing you, you would blabber it to someone in the office and then Yoruichi would strangle me for not telling."

"Hey, come on man, you can trust me!" Renjis eyed widened:" Wait a minute! Your dads studied together, what that makes your pops a doc or something?"

The orange head gave a small nod, while taking another sip from his cold caffeine mix.

"Like wow… and…and your mom…what does she do?"

Ichigo eyes narrowed, thinking if telling his idiot friend about his mother was a good idea.

He lowered his gaze:"She passed away when I was 18."

"_And now for the sports news…"_

Ichigo glanced over to his friend, noticing his confused expression. He took another sip of his drink and looked over to the TV.

"_... __Miyazato has won five of her last nine tournaments on the..."_

"I…I'm sorry man," Renji whispered, lowering his head:"I didn't know…I mean…Sorry."

Ichigo turned his face towards his friend and gave out a small uncharacteristic smile. He didn't mention it to his friend, because he knew exactly that the red head despite his rowdy appearance, tattoos and rude behavior was a gentle soul, who couldn't really handle delicate topics. Ichigo gulped down the last drops of his drink:"Come on dude, what's with the pitiful expression." He stood up grabbing his jacket and walked towards the exit. "Let's go or else we're going to be late and knowing your "excellent" sense of direction the sooner we get there the better."

Ichigos sarcastic criticism successfully shook his friend out of his slump:"Hey come on, I know exactly where're we goin'!"

"Sure you do…," Ichigo smirked, waving his hand while walking out of the small café.

He walked towards the parked car waiting for his red haired friend, who was currently catching up to him after paying for their breakfast. The orange head stood in front of the car and as it seemed, gazed at it, but at a second glance most probably through it. The chatter and buzzing of the street started turning into a barely noticeable murmur, hush and silence. The stillness made every bone in his body strain. He closed his eyes feeling the sweet breeze that gently caressed the leaves and branches of the near growing birches. He heard a whisper, sob… tear… the wind was crying…

_Ichigo__…_

_Forgive me…_

_Please… forgive me…_

"Mothe…"

"Hey Berry head!" Ichigo shook himself out of his memories. The city was buzzing again, the breeze disappeared with the wistful emotion that will forever hunt his soul.

"You're coming or what?" The red head shouted a second time, while getting into the car.

Ichigo placed his hand on the handle, looking into his lucid reflection in the jet black vehicle.

_Regret._

* * *

"You sure you know where we going?" he asked, while tugging on his dark blue, sleeveless turtle neck shirt.

"Yeah, I found the La… whatever street today, didn't I?" Renji shot back, trying to hide the embarrassing fact that they were in fact lost.

"Hoo… that's why you told me that you need an hour to get there, ne?"

"Shut it!"

Ichigo made himself busy with observing the office buildings and people walking pass them. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed a violet sign peeking out from behind the passing building.

"Hey idiot, turn left here!"

"Why?" Renji looked at Ichigo questioningly.

He sighed and pointed his slim, long finger at the unmissable gothic lettered sign that pointed itself out of the nearby structure.

"Oh…"

"Don't oh me, just drive you dimwit!"

After stopping the engine, Renji started quickly taking his equipment from the backseat.

"Who are we interweaving anyway?" Ichigo asked in a voice that seemed to lack in any kind of interest.

"Ugh…wait a sec…"Renji took a piece of wrinkled notebook paper out of his jeans and quickly glanced over it, "Grimmjow Jeagerjaques and Tia Hallibel," the red head cocked an eyebrow, "I know the last name, saw her in some drama once, but Jeagerjaques or however you pronounce that, seems to be some newbie," he shrugged: "Well whatever."

Renji closed the doors of his black BMW and looked over to his orange haired friend, who looked like he would throw up in any minute.

"Car sick?" He asked, throwing a black leather jacket to his friend.

"Yeah, I guess," Ichigo muttered, catching the object and turning to the exit of the parking lot. "You go on without me, catch up with you later."

"Don't be too long. The interview will start," he stopped to look at his watch, "in 15 minutes."

Ichigo nodded and walked towards the busy streets, leaving his friends worrying glances unnoticed.

* * *

Renji walked through a bright corridor, glancing over the framed posters decorating the white walls. The Espada Film Company is a well known agency in Japan. The actors are high class, some even worked as models or where idols in their earlier life, plus they never lacked in skill or professionalism. Even Ichigo who Renji knew wasn't interested in the movie industry, which his lack of knowledge in show business often indicated on, knew some dramas and movies that the all so known Espada produced.

"604…05…06…found it!"

Renji opened the glass door and looked over the dimly lighted room. The only window was covered by a green curtain that was the same shade as the three chairs in the center. Between them there was a small black coffee table, with three water filled glasses. A huge poster hung on the grey colored, mosaic styled wall.

"Ehm!"

Renji nearly jumped, but managed to hold his composure. He turned his head and noticed two figures, a blond haired man in a white business suit and a gorgeous blond, tanned woman, who he quickly recognized to be Miss Tia from the drama he saw recently on TV.

"Oh, sorry, I'm Renji the camera man. The interweaver Kurosaki Ichigo will be a little late. Sorry for the inconvenience." Said the red head, making the most professional smile he could master.

"Oh, no! We're sorry that one of our actors decided to disappear at the last minute," Ilford smiled and reached out his hand.

Renji swiftly put his and Ichigos bag on the floor and shook the hand directed to him, "what do you mean? Aren't you the two actors?"

"Oh, no, no. I'm Jeagerjaques-sans assistant," he smiled feeling a small ego boost from the mix-up and pointed his finger at the poster behind Renji.

The red head glanced over and noticed three figures in the picture, one was an elder man who looked over his shoulder, meeting his eyes, was a younger teal haired male, in his early twenties. Between them, was a smaller version of Hallibel, in a white wedding dress, looking all lost and running somewhere. He traced his eyes lower and noticed a golden writing glittering in the light from one of the studio lamps.

_"Verdadero amor"_

* * *

_Huff_

Ichigo puffed out some smoke, while glancing over the figures that were coming out and entering the building every twenty seconds. Some where wearing classy business suits, some came even dressed only in some jeans and a t-shirt. He even managed to see a couple of builders in navy colored boiler suits.

Ichigo glanced at the smoke oozing out of the cigarette and sighed.

_Never smoked in my life and here I am addicted to it. _

Earlier, when he came out of Renjis car he noticed his heavy breathing and a huge urge to punch somebody out of a rapidly growing irritation. He kind off guessed that his body was in fact in need of nicotine, after that he ran into a near by convenience store and bought the smokes he remembered throwing away this morning.

_Huff _

_This sucks…_

Engrossed in self criticism he didn't notice the glances and whispering of the by passers, some of who were pointing their finger at him, or to be exact behind him. Ichigo placed the white filter in his mouth still analyzing the sidewalk, but was forcefully shaken out of his thoughts by a husky, masculine voice.

"Hey you!"

* * *

_AN_: Verdadero amor means True love in Spanish

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